


Brothers in Common

by PhantomEngineer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 23:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18418268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomEngineer/pseuds/PhantomEngineer
Summary: Wanda and Thor share a quiet moment of grief for the brothers they've lost.





	Brothers in Common

Wanda was sitting on the roof, not certain how she felt about her new home. Nowhere would ever be home, not now that her brother was gone. She wasn’t thinking about any of that though, focusing instead on levitating the apples she had taken from the kitchen that had been provided for her. Probably they had been provided for her to eat, not to play with, but she needed something to do with her mind or it would drift back to the gaping wound inside of her, the devastating space where her brother had been, her heart ripped from her and shot on the streets trying to atone for the disaster they had helped create. 

She had known no other life, no existence, without her twin always with her. 

Thor paused, freezing on the roof as he saw a scene he had seen before only without the red glow of magic, with a different sorcerer playing with their magic as a distraction. For a moment he felt a knife stabbing deep into him, just as Loki had stabbed him on so many occasions mostly in childish jest, just as Loki had been stabbed in cruel reality, deep enough to kill him. Thor’s bright and beautiful brother who had always seemed to be immortal, too quick-witted and full of tricks to do anything as normal as die. Even if Thor still carried resentment for the fiasco over New York it didn’t overwrite the years of being brothers, and even that resentment had been blown away the moment he’d held his brother, dying and apologising, in his arms. He had forgiven him then, as he would have anyway. No matter the number of human lives, they weren’t worth Loki’s to Thor, not that he would tell the other Avengers but it was a fact firmly lodged in his heart.

He knew, with a horrible crawling dread, that he would have to go back to Asgard and see his father, but he didn’t want to. A part of him blamed him, in some twisted way, for everything. For the mistakes he had made as a father, for putting Loki in the cell, for driving Thor to break Loki out and take him to his death. He knew he had a responsibility now plainly laid before him, to seek out as much as he could about the infinity stones. He knew that he would search the galaxy, avoiding his father, for as long as he could justify it.

“My brother used to do that,” he said heavily, sitting down beside her. The apples fell from the air, bouncing on the roof, some falling all the way down to the ground. Thor was not surprised, Loki had often dropped anything he was levitating on Thor when he had been startled, drawn from the comfort of the concentration of magic. Apples were not the worst thing Thor had been accidentally pelted with. He almost smiled, the sadness of the nostalgia sinking into him.

“Your brother?” Wanda asked, curious enough to reply in her native Sokovian dialect, not having expected to have heard it from his lips. Wondering if that meant he spoke it or if it was a part of his godly powers. She didn’t want to question it, not really caring. She didn’t know if she wanted to talk about brothers now that she didn’t have one, even if the idea of one who might understand the strange magic she had appealed to the girl in her who just wanted someone to lead her by the hand and tell her it would all be alright.

“My brother…” Thor sighed, “He died saving me.” The words were too heavy to say, words he didn’t like to put out there because it kept it real and he wished it was just one of Loki’s pranks only he knew it wasn’t and he’d never again fall for Loki’s tricks.

“I’m sorry,” Wanda said, picking up an apple with her fingers, holding it so she could look at it rather than Thor.

“Well, most people are rather glad. He did try to invade your planet.” Thor admitted, looking at the clear blue sky, no hint of a storm in sight.

“It was New York,” Wanda shrugged, “I don’t know anyone in New York. I don’t hold it against him.” 

Maybe it was cold but it was her truth. Now she wondered if it would change. Would she be expected to care about the world, or just the parts deemed important? How much of the population and the planet would the Avengers defend? Would she ever be able to save the scared children hiding in shattered buildings or would she end up another cog in Stark Industries, taking lives even if it was unintentional. Wrecking destruction wherever she went, a trail of red magic unable to cover the bloody tracks. Red on red. A scarlet witch. 

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Thor said softly, not sure what to say. He had barely known Pietro, had not been there when he died. He could appreciate his heroism. He could appreciate the pain of losing the one person you though would always be there. 

Wanda could feel the bullets as though they were imbedded in her body. Ghostly echoes passing through the bond they had shared, one that transcended all else. Ghostly echoes like the magic that trailed from her fingertips and the trail of her fast brother running circles round everyone but always orbiting her as though she was the centrepiece of his life. Now his loss was the sun of her solar system.

There was little for either of them to say, really. Wanda appreciated his company anyway, even if it was quiet. She knew that later she could find more direct comfort in Clint’s awkward hugs, uncertain quite how she felt about the manner in which he had softly adopted her as though he stood a chance of restoring her childhood, but appreciating his care nonetheless. Thor would never be her brother, she knew that, but they had a link. A point of contact. A moment of silence for the deceased, the dead that were mourned by no-one but them for their beloved brothers had been enemies of their allies, even if at the end they had joined forces with good and sacrificed themselves.

Quietly, she handed him an apple, their fingers not brushing. Still she thought there was something intimate about it, using hands rather than magic. He took it from her, as though it was a forbidden fruit and the source of all knowledge, reverently and gently. As she watched the sun set, the same sun she had always known casting it’s scarlet spell over a different landscape she had never even dreamed she might see, she nibbled on an apple as Thor crunched one beside her. She wondered it it lacked flavour for him too, if it was death and loss that had drawn all the colours and tastes from the world, leaving nothing but red revenge and scarlet mourning. She wondered if, maybe, for Thor, the colours were different. If he saw everything in golden green like the apple in his hand.

***

In amongst Thor’s conflicted emotions upon discovering Loki to be alive there was a brief moment when his mind went to Wanda. A swift stab to the heart, or maybe a spray of bullets, for the girl who had lost her brother, for the moment they had shared on the roof, for the girl who wouldn’t be as lucky as he had been. He wondered, if she would be glad to meet Loki and share magic with him, or if her healing heart would crack beyond repair at one brother returned when hers was not.

He spoke to Loki, in the aftermath of fire and destruction, death and his own sister, of a witch that wove scarlet magic and her brother who had lived fast only to die young. Lost words, looking for guidance.


End file.
